


I need a light to take me home

by thekaidonovskys



Series: we found love in a hopeless place [11]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Dom Clint Barton, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Miscommunication, Sub Phil Coulson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-15 21:01:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5800018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekaidonovskys/pseuds/thekaidonovskys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Coulson, wait, stop -”</p><p>He doesn’t even know who’s said it - but his instincts know it was a Dom. Phil stops -</p><p>The next thing he knows, he’s on his knees, the room is silent behind him, and his career is over.</p><p>[In which Clint doesn't pay attention, Phil melts down, and Sam helps put them both back together]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the majority last from last chapter asked for Phil's meltdown. I'll definitely be posting all three, probably going with the safewords next then into age play (notes on age play at the end because I received a lot of comments about it and it needs to be addressed). For now, enjoy.

Phil starts feeling wrong just before midday. 

He doesn't know what's wrong or why it's wrong or what wrong even means. He just doesn't feel right in his own skin, and that's not good. Not at all good. Not when he's got meetings all afternoon and no time to drop. 

Not that it's dropping that he needs. At least, Phil doesn't  _ think _ . He doesn't really know - everything just feels ridiculously out of sorts, like he's stepped sideways, ever so slightly out of his body. It's incredibly disarming. 

He might not have much time, but Phil knows he has to make time to talk to Clint, to at least let him know that there’s something off. It’s a standing order to talk to Clint if he feels unsettled or out of sorts, and Phil doesn’t plan on disobeying - he feels a strong need to go to his Dom right now anyway. So he reschedules one of his reviews with a specialist level candidate, pushes back a few phone calls until tomorrow, and goes to track Clint down. 

Not a hard thing to do - Clint's down in the range, where he has been all day. R&D have finally completed the latest upgrades on his bow, as well as a backup and a whole new range of arrows. Naturally, Clint is in heaven. Phil hates the idea of breaking that, but he still heads down anyway because Clint's said to always come to him if something's wrong. Phil isn't in the habit of ignoring his orders. 

He finds Clint in the middle of a set, junior and senior agents alike watching him shoot. He looks strong and powerful and  _ gorgeous _ , and for a moment the feeling fades a little as Phil takes him in. These are the times Clint gets mistaken for an Alpha Dom, and it's clear why. 

Clint turns away from the board, wiping the sweat from his face as a couple of juniors start pulling the arrows out for him. Phil gently shoulders his way through the crowd, and Clint grins when he catches his eye. "Hey, Coulson," he says. "Thought you had meetings all day and couldn't watch?"

"I do. I'm headed to one soon - just wanted a quick word."

Clint hesitates - and that's what Phil will remember as the tipping point when he looks back later, the second that Clint hesitated. "Yeah, of course," he says, chewing his bottom lip a little and glancing at the board. "A really quick word, right? Because I'm on fire today, and the tension on this baby is unbelievable, and I feel like I could shoot for hours - but sorry. Quick word. What's up, boss?"

Phil shakes his head. "On second thoughts, it can wait. You continue."

Clint frowns for a moment, then a junior quietly sidles up and hands him his reloaded quiver. "Oh, thanks," Clint says, putting it back on, and his focus is gone again. "Okay, cool. I can swing by your office later, say around three?"

"Three it is," Phil says, and turns away. He doesn't bother with goodbyes - Clint is busy. Phil doesn't want to disturb him any more than necessary.

The normality of his world tilts a little further away. Phil pushes it aside and heads to the cafeteria to grab a sandwich before his next meeting. He's probably just hungry or something. Besides, Clint can read him like an open book - if Clint couldn’t tell that something was wrong, then it can’t be that bad after all.

***

Half an hour into his meeting, and Phil realizes it definitely wasn't hunger.

Whatever it is, it's continuing to build, and being here isn't helping at all. The meeting is too long and too much. Too much talking and words going right over Phil's head - which is a real shame, because this is one of Sam’s rare consulting meetings, where Phil finally convinces him to come in and share some of his knowledge with SHIELD. As a rule, he refuses to work with them as much as possible, but his knowledge of hostage situations is invaluable and Phil keeps trying until, about once every six months, he wears Sam down (usually with Steve and Bucky’s help). Sam is always fascinating to listen to, and a veritable pool of wisdom, and today Phil can’t even take a single note because the words just aren’t sinking in.

Even if this were a boring meeting, Phil’s no stranger to them. But today Phil can't seem to cope with it. His hands keep twitching and he hides one under the desk, drumming a staccato rhythm into his leg. It gets faster and faster, and eventually he tears his hand away and clasps them together on the tabletop. He knows he should excuse himself, that he’s in no state to be sitting here, that eventually something is going to give and his current situation (whatever the hell it  _ is _ ) is going to become obvious, but Phil’s pride stops him from doing that. He should be able to get through a damn meeting, subbiness be damned. He’s at work, and work means neutral, end of story - 

"Coulson?"

Phil looks up. Everybody's watching him - clearly he's just been asked something, and Phil opens his mouth to apologize and ask them to repeat it and -

Can't. 

His words just don't appear. 

And something is very, very wrong. 

“Phil?” Sam asks - because Sam has never been in the habit of using surnames, which has never been an issue until right this second because he needs to be Coulson and he’s  _ not  _ Coulson. “Everything alright?”

Phil tries to speak again, and is horrified when he  _ whimpers  _ instead. He claps his hands over his mouth, and  _ shit _ , his eyes are welling up, tears spilling over before he even comprehends that he’s crying, and what the hell is  _ happening _ ? He’s lost control over his own mind and body - the best he’s doing right now is stopping himself from outright sobbing, but even that’s a battle Phil’s very close to losing.

“Was it about the guy in the avalanche?” Sam’s asking someone quietly. “Did he lose an agent that way?”

The rest of the conversation is lost, drowned out by Phil’s frantic thoughts as he tries to work out what to do. He needs to get out of here, he knows that much, but his feet feel like lead and his vision is blurry and he’s not sure if he’s going to be sick or start screaming if he opens his mouth and neither are good options. But he can’t stay here, and Phil stumbles to his feet, knocking his chair over as he does, and turns to bolt for the door -

“Coulson, wait, stop -”

He doesn’t even know who’s said it - but his instincts know it was a Dom. Phil stops -

The next thing he knows, he’s on his knees, the room is silent behind him, and  _ his career is over. _

“Okay,” Sam says in the quiet, his voice calm. “I think we need all Doms out of here, and if someone could contact Clint?”

It seems like people are listening as the room is clearing fast - but then they’re probably all glad to be out of this  _ horrendously  _ awkward situation. Phil wishes he could be out as easily, but he’s stuck here, still on his knees, still in tears, still with no idea what he’s supposed to do. He should probably stand up,  _ definitely  _ apologize, and oh  _ god _ , did he say call Clint? This is the  _ last  _ situation Phil wants Clint to find him in. 

The door closes, then Sam takes a seat on the ground. “Okay, it’s just us now,” he says quietly. “Just focus on breathing, and let me know if I need to do anything or get anyone.”

Sam’s voice, soft and so  _ neutral _ , helps Phil’s panic settle. He takes a few shuddery deep breaths, wills the tears back, then shifts off his knees, wrapping his arms around himself and keeping his eyes downcast. “Holy shit,” he murmurs.

“Unexpected for you too, then? But that’s okay, these things happen. Few quick questions - do you need medical? I’m kind of familiar with sub drop and distress, but I don’t have the same instincts to really know where you’re at like a Dom would.”

Phil shakes his head. “I’m not…” he stops and sighs. “I mean obviously I’m somewhere towards fucked up, but I’m not there - if you get what I’m saying?”

“Makes sense to me. Clint’s coming anyway, he’ll be able to… and the idea of Clint isn’t a good one, it seems?”

Phil rubs his arms, but it’s too late to hide the shudder. “‘s fine,” he mumbles. 

“Do I need to keep him out of the room?" Sam asks, and his tone has shifted. 

It takes Phil a few seconds to understand, then he’s looking up, eyes wide. “No, fuck, he… it isn’t - he hasn’t  _ done  _ anything, it’s not like that.”

Sam meets his eyes squarely, and nods. “Alright. How can I help?”

Phil breaks the eye contact and swallows hard. “Don’t know.”

“Okay. I’m feeling like that was as much of a surprise for you as it was -“ 

Sam stops as the door opens, and Phil flinches, makes himself small, because there’s nobody coming through that door right now who Phil wouldn’t feel ashamed about seeing him this way. If it’s a colleague, Phil’s reputation is shot even further; if it’s Fury, he might just actually  _ die _ ; if it’s Clint…

It is Clint. And Phil has to fight his urge to flee. He must be in  _ so  _ much trouble now. 

“Hey, Clint,” Sam says without looking up. “Pull up some floor - perhaps here next to me for the minute.”

Clint does as asked. Phil can feel his eyes burning into him, and stays as still as he can. He doesn’t know what move is the right one right now. “Not that I don’t like you, Sam,” Clint says, “but I’d really rather be sitting closer to Phil. Why am I getting the fairly deadly vibe that you won’t let me?”

“Because I’m currently trying to work out how we ended up here on the floor, and right now I can’t rule out anything, up to and including you doing something to make him end up here.”

Clint sighs. “That’s only fair. What happened - as far as you know, anyway?”

“I can only tell you directly what I saw,” Sam says. “He had a… an emotional moment, which I was advised was a submissive meltdown. He excused himself to probably try and get away and compose himself, and one of the Doms requested him to stop. And that’s how Phil ended up on the floor.”

“Someone ordered him to his knees?” Clint asks, and he’s nearly snarling.

“No,” Sam says evenly. “Someone asked him to stop with about as much force as someone would use if they were asking to speak to a manager, and Phil went to his knees. It was clearly automatic, and I’m guessing very unusual.”

“Yeah. Phil deals with mouthy and aggressive Doms all the time and doesn’t so much as bow his head. Which means…” Clint sighs. “Yeah, something’s definitely wrong. So you were trying to work out what’s upset him?”

“Again, I can only tell you what I saw directly. What might have happened prior to the meeting, or what happened in his head to trigger the meltdown, I don’t know. I don’t expect him to tell me, either, and I’m not going to ask. All I can do is give you the facts as I see them. Phil lost focus about halfway through the meeting, and when he was called on he seemed to lose his words entirely, at which point he started getting panicked and emotional. It was like a switch had flipped from the Phil we know to -“

“To the Phil I know,” Clint says softly. “The Doms that said it was a submissive meltdown are completely right - I know you don’t have the instincts, but I can feel it.”

“Wouldn’t any meltdown Phil has be a submissive one though? Him being a submissive and all.”

“Phil can and does still show emotions when he’s portraying neutral. He can be upset over the loss of an agent, for example, without going nonverbal or involuntarily taking orders. This is base level, serious hurt, to the point where I don’t even think he knows what’s wrong.”

“Do you know?”

Clint pauses for a moment. “I think so,” he says. “I’ll have to talk to him - when he’s up for talking - to be sure, but I have some ideas.”

“Okay. I’ll see myself out… in a minute. Because there’s something else I need to comment on, and I don’t know if it’s factored in to what you think is wrong or not.” Sam sighs. “Phil knelt for another Dom -“

“Which wasn’t his fault.”

“Absolutely not. But Clint -“ here Sam pauses, as if choosing his words. “Why would he kneel for another Dom so involuntarily when you’re in the same building? Because I know I said it flipped like a switch, but I also know that Phil seems pretty in tune with his emotions, and he’s also both a good professional and a good sub. If he knew his emotions weren’t where they needed to be - and I can’t honestly believe he wouldn’t have some idea - then he wouldn’t put himself in a position like this, in a room full of Doms when he’s unsettled… unless he felt like he had no choice.”

“He could have come to -“

There’s a long pause.

“Fuck,” Clint says, very very quietly.

“I tried,” Phil whispers.

“You did try,” Clint says, his voice anguished. “You were there and I didn’t see - I didn’t  _ look _ , I didn’t think to look… you tried to come to me, you knew something was wrong and I - I fucked up. It’s my fault. Oh god, Phil -“

And it’s relief - that it wasn’t intentional, that Clint still loves him, that Phil was  _ right  _ to be upset - that makes Phil burst into tears. At that point, neither hell nor high water, and especially not Sam, can stop Clint from closing the distance between them, and Phil sobs harder as Clint hugs him. Sam stands, and a moment later the door closes. Phil barely notices, because Clint is here and he’s safe and maybe everything is going to be okay now.

He just has to get through the crying part first. The crying part always takes too damn long. 

But it does help. Once Phil’s out of tears and is trying to mop up his face without ruining his suit, he realises how much better he feels already just for getting it out - how much more  _ human _ , and more aware of himself. Of course, he hasn’t actually dealt with anything yet…

Time to get it over and done with. Phil sighs and looks up, meeting Clint’s eyes for the first time since down at the range. Clint looks back, serious and worried and apologetic. “Hi,” Phil says, then pulls a face because stupid much? But his words still aren’t working how he’d like them to.

Clint just keeps looking at him. “Hi,” he says back. “How are you feeling?”

Phil shrugs. “Too many things to put in words.”

“Can we try?” Phil nods, and Clint squeezes his shoulders gently. “Good. Is there anything you need first?”

“Um.” Phil thinks, worrying his bottom lip as he does. “To know what’s gonna happen after the conversation?”

Clint frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Am I in trouble?”

Clint chokes over his words, then makes a small sad sound that Phil hates. “ _ No _ ,” he says. “Of course you aren’t in trouble, Phil, why would you  _ think  _ -“

“You heard Sam - I shouldn’t have come to the meeting. I made that choice.”

“You are not in trouble,” Clint says very firmly. “You haven’t done a damn thing wrong - you tried to do the right thing, then you tried to continue on with your day like normal. It wasn’t your fault that things weren’t normal and your Dom was a fucking asshole.”

“You’re not -“

Clint shakes his head. “This is completely my fault,” he says quietly. "I caused you distress and hurt you so badly. I'm supposed to protect you, not hurt you." 

Phil feels more tears threaten, and blinks them back. "Wasn't you," he says. "I was sad before I came to you."

"That doesn't make me feel better," Clint mutters, then sighs. "Okay. Let's talk about that first. Do you know why you were sad?”

"Not really. Just felt wrong."

"Do you still feel wrong, here with me? Stupid question, I know, because you’re sad and worried and you have every right to feel wrong - but is it the same wrong? Or is that gone?”

Phil considers, then nods. "Still out of sorts but not... not like I want to jump out of my skin."

Clint nods. "I suspect it's because you're not projecting neutral," he says. "Once the distress got too high, you dropped your projection, which definitely indicates that it was the problem. Keeping it in place was too hard to do, and it made you feel wrong and like you weren't yourself. How's all of this sounding?"

"Right. But why? I'm normally fine."

"Our scene last night was intense," Clint says contemplatively. "And sometimes these things take a little while to catch up with you." 

"But that felt good," Phil protests. "It was amazing. Why would I feel wrong?"

Clint smiles a little. "Because last night you submitted so fully to me and let me take you high; and today you're projecting neutral. That's why we generally do more intense scenes on weekends - it's not just physical recovery you need time for. It's really no surprise that you started feeling wrong about who you were, and struggling to keep hold of your projection. You're still feeling subby, feeling the need to submit to authority, which can be a serious issue around this place since there are so many Doms… as you got to experience firsthand.” The smile drops completely. "And I didn't see it. Didn't even see the potential for it going wrong."

"It's not your fault."

Clint sighs. "I'm sorry, sweet boy, I know you always try to see the best in me, but this time I can't let you do that. This  _ is _ my fault, Phil. I fucked up. I’m the one who’s supposed to control our scenes, which includes saying no when I know it’s a bad time to be doing something, and I didn’t do that. I’m also responsible for you afterwards - and not just immediately afterwards, but for as long as I need to be until I know you’re not going to have any aftereffects. I’m supposed to see it, and not only did I completely miss it, I didn’t even notice when you were right in front of me trying to tell me that something was wrong. I failed to do my job as your Dom.”

The silence after that is absolute. Phil closes his eyes and doesn’t speak.

“And I know you want to forget that,” Clint continues, “and tell me that it's okay and it's over now - but we can't do it this way. You have to acknowledge that you were hurt, because you were. If you brush it off like it was nothing, you're not dealing with it, and it just burns you up inside. I make you talk about it when other people hurt you; I'm no exception. Own your feelings."

"It's hard."

"I know." Clint takes his hands. "Let me help put it into words - I should have been there for you, and I wasn’t. You came to me for help, and I let you down."

Phil looks down at their hands. "You did," he murmurs. Saying it stings, and feels like the worst disrespect, but Clint just squeezes his hands in silent encouragement. "I did what I was supposed to... but no. I didn't. I should have been more assertive."

Clint sighs. "Well, yes," he admits. "But also no, because you weren't in a state to be assertive. You could have asked me to come your office or tried to subtly indicate that it was a personal matter, but your mind wasn't up for that. You came to me, tried to speak to me, and I brushed you off - and that is the only thing that anybody can be held to blame for."

Phil slowly nods. "I followed my orders. I tried. I didn't even know what was wrong, just that I had to tell you, and it was hard enough to project neutral and then you called me boss and I knew you weren't seeing me. And..."

"And?" Clint prompts. 

"And you were so happy. I couldn't ruin that." There's a long silence. Phil peeks up to see Clint's eyes are closed, his face carefully impassive. "Clint?" he asks. 

Clint opens his eyes. The hurt is sharp and shocking. "I've fucked up worse than I thought," he says. "If you actually think that a bow and a new set of arrows is going to make me happier than being with you, then I've fucked up being your Dom… and I can’t do this if that’s how you see me.”

Phil stares at him wide-eyed. He has no idea what to say to fix this. 

"Okay," Clint says after a moment. "No, that isn't fair. I know you know how much I love you. I know you weren't in the right frame of mind. I said you haven't done anything wrong and I mean it.”

Phil lets out a shaky breath. “You’re not leaving me?”

Clint looks  _ wounded  _ now. “I'm such a fuckup,” he mutters. “Of course you’d hear that and think… no, Phil, I’m not leaving, I swear. The only way I’m leaving is if you decide that I fucked up bad enough that you don’t want me around anymore.”

“No.” It’s immediate, firm, and empathic. Phil doesn’t want Clint going  _ anywhere _ .

Clint very barely smiles. “Good. Let me try to salvage this conversation a bit and actually fix the things that can be fixed. You were feeling guilty about coming to get me because I was doing something I enjoyed. So what I clearly haven't explained well enough is when the appropriate time is to come and get me if you need to drop the persona and be Phil during work hours. Would you like me to make that clear?"

Phil nods. "Please."

"The correct time," Clint says, emphasising every word, "is any time. If you need your Dom, no matter how small the reason might feel, you come and get him. You are entitled under the law and under SHIELD's policies to do that whenever you need to; and even if you weren't, I'd tell you to do it anyway. And if I'm not listening - which I swear will not happen again - then you use whatever words, actions, or force is necessary to get my attention. You are my priority, Phil, not some bow.”

Phil wrinkles his nose. "But that's the problem," he says, and Clint frowns. "Scenes. Public scenes. Other people knowing that I'm coming to you as a submissive. That’s why I didn’t push it today when I should have.” 

Clint lets out a slow breath. "I wish I could just say fuck them and leave it there," he says, "but I understand that it's a very real fear for you, and definitely not something I can order you to just  _ get over _ . So we'll work on solving it together, right now, so you can at least feel like that much is resolved. How can we make it clear that you're coming to me needing your Dom? Some kind of signal that nobody else would pick up on?"

Phil thinks for a moment. "Well," he says, "it could be in how I address you. I always call you Barton or Agent - but technically I can also address you as Specialist, which I never do. So if I were to call you that on occasion, nobody would know that it was out of the ordinary -"

"But I'd know that something was up," Clint completes with a nod. "That's a great idea, sweetheart."

Phil smiles a little. "You think so?"

"Absolutely. Simple and effective. Of course, going forward from here, I'd like to think that I won't be so caught in my own world to miss your very obvious warning signs.”

Clint looks far too sad again, and Phil squeezes his hands. “When I do something wrong,” he says, “you don’t ever let me dwell on it for this long. We’ve talked about it and sorted out what went wrong and how to make sure it doesn’t happen again. Please stop beating yourself up.”

Clint sighs. “I know. It’s just hard to deal with the fact that I hurt you like this.”

“I get it. The first time I broke the rules, I felt guilty and sad for a lot longer than you said I was allowed to be. Just… at least just know that I don’t think you need to feel those things. It’s okay. I’m okay.”

“Completely okay?” Clint asks.

Phil recognizes that question for what it is, not just a passing query, and considers it. “I guess still a little unsteady,” he admits, “but I have just had a rather mortifying meltdown. I’m shocked that I can drop out of neutral that easily. It’s never happened before - I can switch fairly fast at the end of the day, but I’ve never gone that quickly when it was involuntary.”

“Definitely the scene,” Clint says. “Another thing to make sure it doesn’t happen again - no high-level submission scenes on week nights. Hell, we both know better than that."

"I did beg."

"And you beg very nicely, and I'm only human. Still. We know the consequences now, and I think we can restrain ourselves until the weekend."

"Wasn't restraining me part of the problem?" Phil asks innocently, then smirks. 

Clint laughs, but he looks so relieved. "There's my Phil," he says. "I was worried I'd scared you away for a bit there."

Phil was equally as worried that he’d scared Clint away - hearing Clint laugh has helped set him at ease a whole lot more. “I don't think that's possible,” Phil says. “Like you said, you're only human. You're going to make mistakes - and that's hard, because you have to handle the aftermath of two people and fix it for me when I lose my capability to do so. But I trust you to keep me safe, always, and I know you'll always make it better."

Clint squeezes his hands. "But if I ever cross the line - if I make you feel unsafe or unloved..."

"I'll leave," Phil says firmly. "I love you, but I know how to look after myself."

"Good," Clint says. "And I know if I ever do cross the line - and I'm sure as hell not planning on it - then I know you have people to take care of you. Sam for starters.”

That brings up a whole other set of issues that Phil isn't prepared to think about right now. "Can we go home?" he asks. "Can we just - I just want to go home and not worry anymore."

"Of course we can, sweetheart."

"Do you need to sign off and collect your gear?"

"The bow's being held in the office - R&D will pick it up later this afternoon for some final tweaks. And I'm pretty sure I made it clear I was signed off when I answered an emergency call and then jumped into the vents."

Phil sighs out of propriety. "That explains how you got here so fast." Clint can turn a five minute walk into a minute and a half by travelling via vents. "And I think I made my own stand-down status very clear.”

He sighs again, and Clint gently tugs him to his feet, drawing him in for a hug. “Let’s go home,” he says. “It’s over now.”

Of course it isn’t over - Phil’s entire reputation has just taken a beating, and he’s going to have to work so damn hard to get it back, and he hasn’t even spoke to Fury yet who’s  _ definitely  _ already heard about this through the grapevine and -

And tomorrow’s another day. Phil takes Clint’s hand and allows him to take him home.

***

“Hey,” Clint says softly once they’re in the front door. “Before we decide how to spend our afternoon, there's something I need to ask you." Phil turns and tilts his head in inquiry, and Clint smiles reassuringly. "You can say no, but I was wondering if you'd like the option of punishing me for what happened today?"

Phil blinks a few times, then empathically shakes his head. "No," he says firmly. "Clint -"

"It's okay, I'm not going to ask you to." Clint twines a hand in his hair, then begins stroking it in soft sweeps. "I know some other couples use it, that it's not inherently about switching but just helping the sub deal with injustices in a way they're familiar with. If you don't like it, that's fine."

"It would feel too wrong - and it isn't right for us anyway. Your stance on punishment is never to make yourself feel better if I've upset you. That part happens when we communicate and I apologize - punishment is if I need it. How could I punish you to try and make me feel better for what happened? You've apologized, we've talked it all out, and I know it's going to be okay. I don't need to - to... god, how would I even punish you? I don't know. Anyway, I don't need it to feel better. But... do you?"

Clint shakes his head with a smile. "No, I'm okay. What makes me feel better is seeing you happy and calm and safe and knowing that you trust me. You are my priority, and making sure you're cared for is all I need."

"Then in the spirit of making you feel better by making me feel better, I have a request for how to spend our afternoon."

"If it's possible to provide, my answer is yes."

Phil smiles. "Finally testing out our new bath?"

Clint's eyes light up. "What a perfect idea," he says. "Let's do it."

The new bath, installed over the weekend, is something that Tony laughed his ass off over when Clint approached him about it - but it's worth it. The last one fit them both comfortably, but limited them severely in terms of cuddling properly or having a bit more space if necessary. 

(Apparently Tony pointed out that it also wasn't great for having sex in, and smirked a lot. Clint didn't dignify that with an answer.)

(He was right though.)

Anyway, the new bath is amazing - at least appearance wise. It's a spa bath, looks like it could hold at least six people, and Phil has been dying to try it out. Despite Tony's smirks, he's not even that interested in finding out how good it is for sex. Not tonight, anyway. 

The bath takes awhile to run. While Phil watches (there's something so soothing about watching a bath run), Clint slips in behind him, wrapping his arms around Phil's waist. Phil leans back into him with a contented hum, and Clint kisses his cheek. "I love you," Clint murmurs. 

"Love you too."

Clint lifts his hands to Phil's neck and unknots his tie. He has an uncanny knack for it for someone who never wears ties, and laughs when Phil tells him so. "As a good Dom, one of my primary skills is untying knots," he points out. 

Phil smiles, then turns to wrap his arms around Clint. "I'm glad you still know you're a good Dom," he says. 

Clint looks away for a moment, then meets his eyes again. "A lot of me is trying to say otherwise," he admits. "But I know that mistakes happen. The important thing is having you here, safe and relaxed and happy. If you can forgive me and trust me, then I can forgive myself. Making you cry is the part that I struggle with the most."

"Clint, nearly everybody in this building has made me cry at some point," Phil says, smiling softly. "I just cry a lot. Way too much."

He turns away to switch off the taps and test the water, and when he looks back, Clint's watching him with a clear question in his eyes. Phil raises an eyebrow, and Clint smiles a little. "Just curious. Before me, when you were on your own, did you cry a lot? Because as much as it kills me to think of you three floors up crying yourself to sleep alone..."

Phil shakes his head. "I really didn't. When I was alone, I just got on with things. Told myself not to be stupid or so subby, and started on another pile of paperwork. The only times I let myself get emotional was after really, really bad days, or in subdrop when I had no choice. All the crying now means that I feel safe enough to let myself go.”

Clint draws him back in and hugs him tightly. "Thank you for giving me a positive way to look at your tears," he says, and Phil smiles. "How did you manage subdrop alone?" 

Phil steps away a little to begin undressing - the allure of the bath is irresistible - but keeps eye contact so Clint knows he isn't upset. "I didn't," he says. "I knew better than that with my risk factors. If I started feeling really out of sorts for no reason - or for an obvious reason - I could generally pick up on it and get myself to medical."

"Good." Clint finishes undressing, and holds out a hand for Phil's suit. "I'll hang Coulson up," he says with a smirk, and Phil rolls his eyes as he hands it over. "You make yourself comfortable."

Phil steps into the bath as Clint leaves, sinks down into it, and sighs in pure contentment. "We owe Tony a fruit basket," he says, closing his eyes.

Clint laughs, and Phil hears him return. "Let's test out the sprawl room," he says, and takes the other corner. He settles in, then nudges Phil's ankle with his foot. "Not bad. Except now I'm wondering why we wanted all this space - why would I ever need you this far away?"

Smiling, Phil leaves his corner and closes the distance between them, settling on Clint's lap. "Better?" he asks innocently. 

"Much better," Clint agrees, arms wrapping around his waist. "I like having my sweet boy as close as I can get him."

Phil lets himself relax bodily into Clint, arms around his shoulders and nuzzling softly into his neck. "He quite likes being this close too," Phil murmurs. 

"Good." Clint kisses the top of his head. "This what you were after?"

"Yeah. Can I just stay here for awhile?"

"For as long as you like, beautiful."

Phil hums happily. "Is this making you feel better?"

"Absolutely." Clint holds him tighter. "To have you here and know that you're right where you want to be, that's all I need."

"Good." 

For awhile, they sit and soak in silence. Phil’s drifting off a little, this time the haze one of contentment and certainty - he knows where he is, and that he’s safe. He doesn’t drift too far, because losing focus and complete control of himself is probably going to be a bit of a hard limit for at least a few days, but Phil at least finally relaxes.

When the water starts to turn lukewarm, Phil looks up and meets Clint's eyes. "I'm sort of glad this all happened," he admits. 

Clint frowns. "Why's that?"

"Because I - and I'm pretty sure this is a universal sub thing, not just me - but because I kept waiting for - for something to fuck up."

He looks anxiously at Clint, trying to gauge his reaction, but Clint just nods. "Waiting for the honeymoon to end? For me to drop the ball, so to speak, and break the safety bubble?”

"Yeah," Phil whispers and looks down. 

"Hey," Clint says softly. "Phil, it's okay. I know it doesn't mean you don't trust me. You're a realist, and you always plan for all of your contingencies, and of course you'll be afraid of the worst happening. I've had fears of my own like that, you know? You’re my submissive, and you put your life in my hands - we  _ should  _ both be scared about that on some level. And it's reasonable to expect that something bad will happen, because it's not always going to be good. We both know that. But that's only okay as long as that doesn't impact on how you trust me - which I know it hasn't. But now that something bad has happened, do you feel better about our capacity to handle it?"

Phil smiles. "Yeah," he says, looking back up. "I guess that was always a worry, how we'd manage bad things. This helped."

"Are there any other worries you're holding on to?"

Clint is too perceptive sometimes. Phil shrugs, then sighs. "Yeah," he admits. "Just one."

"Tell me?"

"If we fight. If you - if you get angry."

Clint's watching him closely. "Is this about the yelling?" he asks, and his expression turns resolute when Phil nods. "Now, I know you know I'm always going to respect your hard limits. That's a promise I made you, right back at the very start, and I have no intention of breaking it. This is a case where  _ I’m only human  _ does  _ not  _ apply - if I break those promises, that is the ultimate fuck up. Is there a reason you still think I'm going to lose my temper and yell at you if we fight?"

"S'happened before."

Clint stills. "You've had a Dom break your hard limits?"

"Yeah. Yeah, he - he tried to stop me from going to work because I was meant to be on a day off. But they'd called for all agents, emergency priority one, and I knew not to ignore that. He ordered me to stay home and I refused and went in."

Phil pauses then, needing an opinion. Clint gives it easily. "Stupid asshole," he says. "For the record, I'd have either told you to stay safe or, more likely, been fighting at your side, and then I would have made sure you got at least the next two days off."

Phil smiles a little. "Good. But he wasn't so... reasonable. When I got home, despite being in the field for ten hours and coming back with quite a few minor injuries, he - he laid into me. Told me that he was my Dom and he came first." He pauses, takes a deep breath. "When he started yelling, I locked myself in the bathroom."

"Shit, Phil," Clint murmurs. "Please tell me you left?"

"I did. Straight away, or at least once he'd stopped yelling long enough for me to officially dissolve our contract. But - but leaving doesn't take back the fact that he broke a hard limit and that he yelled at me. Those things don't go away because I did."

"No, of course they don't, sweetheart. I'm so sorry."

"It's in the past."

"Not quite far enough." Clint sighs softly. "I've sworn to you that I won't yell; I know you trust me. All I can say is that I don't want to lose you, sweet boy, and that's going to keep me from yelling if nothing else does."

"I do trust you. I just have a lot of stupid worries."

"Not stupid." Clint kisses his forehead. "For what it's worth, I'm not a yeller. If I'm really angry, I go cold and quiet - not that I ever plan on being that angry with you. But it's not like I'm suppressing the natural instinct to rant and rave if I get angry, which I think might have been the issue with that one."

Phil nods. "I think so too." He sighs a little and presses closer to Clint. "God, as if we didn't go through enough of my issues today, I threw this one out there as well. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Sometimes when you start unburdening yourself, you end up saying a lot more than planned. It's okay." Clint smiles softly, still watching him carefully. "Anything else you need to get off your chest?"

"Just that I think I might take a leave of absence from SHIELD."

"For how long?"

"Possibly forever." Clint frowns, and Phil sighs. "After that display today, you think I can go back and look any of them in the eye?"

"Of course you can. Why not?"

"It's mortifying. I wasn't capable of being mortified at the time but I'm making up for it now. What must they think of me?"

Clint actually smiles a little. “I can guarantee if any of the agents in there tried to so much as look at you differently, Sam would rip their heads off, then cancel his consulting contract.”

“Then I have twice as many reasons to hope they don’t,” Phil says seriously. “Sam’s always about twenty seconds from cancelling his contract, we don’t need to give him any more reason to want to stop working with us.”

Clint laughs. “Very true. Baby, if you need a day off for your own sake, I won't argue. But if you're doing it to hide, I'm going to try and convince you not to. Not just because hiding from your fears isn't healthy, but because I don't think you need to be afraid at all. There are subs at SHIELD having meltdowns just about every day, just like there are Doms having control issues… and, for that matter, there are just people behaving badly. We’ve all seen the full range of human nature within this organization, and nobody can fault you for being human.”

Phil sighs. “I know. I’ll see how I feel tomorrow.”

“Good plan. Let’s get out of here - I feel the need to feed you, and then put on crap TV and hold you too tight for a long time.”

“Sounds like the perfect night in.”

***

It’s no surprise when JARVIS announces Sam’s presence at their door later that evening. Phil’s half asleep, worn out from the immense array of emotions he’s gone through today, but he at least sits up when Clint lets Sam in, wincing when he yawns hard enough to crack his jaw. “Sorry,” he says, “I don’t think I need to tell you how long today has been.”

Sam smiles. “I’m just glad to see you looking calmer. I won’t take up too much of your time, just wanted to see with my own eyes that you’re doing alright.”

Phil nods. “Glad you’re here, actually. Who was it who told me to stop today?”

“Wu.”

“Okay. First thing on the agenda tomorrow, apologies to Wu.”

“I think the part where I told you this wasn’t your fault hasn’t sunk in,” Clint says, sitting back down next to him. “No apologies.”

“Yes apologies,” Phil counters. “Shouldn’t have gone to the meeting when I wasn’t fit for it - I put her in a bad situation. How would you feel if you said something to a sub, completely innocent, and they took it as an order or went to their knees for you?” Clint makes a face, and Phil nods. “Exactly. I won’t apologize for being a sub or anything, just for not exercising my best judgement as an agent - I know how to remove myself from a situation if I’m going to compromise anybody else, especially if it involves personal submissive matters.”

“I guess that’s your call,” Clint says, holding his arm out. “At least you’re talking about going in tomorrow.”

Phil leans against him with a small contented sigh. “Fury wouldn’t let me skip out over something like this,” he says.

“Fury would let you get away with a lot more than you think, sweet boy.”

Sam’s watching them, smiling in approval. “Don’t need to ask how things are with you two, clearly.”

Phil waves a dismissive hand. “Shit happens. We get past it.”

“What Phil means,” Clint says, stroking Phil’s arm, “is that he’s an incredibly forgiving and trusting person who is too good to me by far, and I will be making this up to him in so many ways in the days to come.”

Phil yawns again. “That all sounds like bullshit, except the making it up to me, which sounds delightful.”

Sam stands. “I’m satisfied. I’ll see myself out - and I’l see you tomorrow.”

Phil frowns. “Tomorrow?”

“We have a meeting to finish.” Phil pulls a face, ready to apologize, but Sam waves it away before he can. “I’ve also been asked to work with some of the SHIELD neutrals, so it’s not like it’s any extra effort.” He grins. “Apparently we’re good to have around in a crisis, and I’m to start consulting work in the negotiation and mediation department immediately.”

Phil chuckles. “You’ll have my vote on that one.”

“And mine,” Clint says, more seriously. “Thank you for what you did today.”

Sam nods in reply, and lets himself out. Phil yawns again and nuzzles closer. “I love that guy,” he says. “He’s really soothing.”

“We’ve talked about your declarations of unashamed adoration of other men while we’re having alone time,” Clint says faux-sternly, standing up and bringing Phil up with him. “But for the record, you’re right - he’s essentially got null pheromones. It’s weird how calming it is not being able to instinctively sense somebody’s emotional state.” Clint pauses. “Also a little worrying. I don’t think you’d know that he wanted to kill you until he snapped your neck.”

“And that’s why we remain grateful that he keeps his consulting contract with SHIELD active,” Phil says solemnly.

“Amen,” Clint says, leading Phil to the bedroom. “Want a shoulder rub before bed?”

“Best Dom ever,” Phil says with feeling.

“You make me a better Dom every day,” Clint murmurs. “And I wasn’t kidding - I’m lavishing as much attention on you as I can for the next while, until you tell me I’m smothering you.”

Phil nudges Clint pointedly towards the bed. “I don’t feel smothered,” he says. “Neither do my shoulders.”

Clint laughs, then sets to work on melting Phil into a puddle of comfort and safety and happiness, in which his day and the days ahead cease to matter. His here and now - with a Dom who makes mistakes, but always makes them right, and  _ always  _ loves him - is what matters. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Re: age play. I got a lot of comments of people saying they don't want to see age play, people all across the spectrum from flat out not going to touch it, to others who just don't want it to be sexual. I completely understand not wanting to go near something outside your limits, so while I will be posting the age play stories, they will easily be skippable, and I encourage you to just not go near them if they aren't your thing. It will be completely nonsexual age play, because Clint has his own very high limits around age play that will not be broken, and there'll probably be about three or four chapters in all - but I'll probably post other parts of the verse in between uploading those, so that those avoiding age play won't be stuck waiting for however long it takes to get those out. I hope this works for everybody - I know there are some who are excited to see the age play, so I'm looking forward to sharing it with you.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil knows there will be eyes on him from the moment he enters the room. He straightens his tie, takes a deep breath, then exits the shuttle and begins his day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a few people request a chapter two - which, honestly, I hadn't even thought of until it was requested, and then it made perfect sense. Of course we should see what happens the next day at work. Here it is.

Phil knows there will be eyes on him from the moment he enters the room. He straightens his tie, takes a deep breath, then exits the shuttle and begins his day.

He's alone as he walks through the halls leading to his office. Clint had offered to be with him, but Phil declined. It isn’t customary for Clint to walk with him - he does sometimes, when their schedules coincide or they have a meeting together first thing, but not enough that it’s common - and Phil doesn’t want anything to be out of the ordinary today. Nor does he want the image having Clint beside him will give - that he can’t handle this alone. Phil can handle this alone.

He keeps his eyes ahead, nodding occasionally to agents he’s friendly with as he passes. There are some stares, some whispers, and some sympathetic glances. Phil ignores all of that, his expression bland and even as he steps into his office. He doesn’t bother closing the door, just sets down his briefcase then turns right back around, locking the door behind him and heading for Fury’s office.

Phil doesn’t have an appointment, and he knows he doesn’t need one. He just knocks, identifies himself, then enters, closing the door behind himself. “Sir,” he says with a nod, sitting down in one of the visitors chairs, and waits. 

Fury usually likes to keep people waiting for a few minutes while he works - today he stops almost immediately and gives Phil his full attention. “Coulson,” he says.

Phil could weep with relief, he really could. The two are on a first name basis in private these days, but Fury has read the situation perfectly and knows that right now Phil does not want to be spoken to with familiarity. He’s here as an agent - a good agent, worthy of respect - and Fury’s treating him as such.

“Sir,” Phil says again. “My apologies for unauthorized leave yesterday.”

Fury waves a hand. “Knew were you were if there was a crisis. Submissives welfare would like a meeting when you have the time.”

“I’ll see what I can manage.” Phil sighs and forces himself to ask. “Do you need my Dominant to sign the clearance form declaring me fit for work?”

Fury snorts. “Get out of here, Phil. Two of your agents got into a fistfight yesterday afternoon, go handle the paperwork.”

“The place turns into chaos when I leave, doesn’t it?”

Fury returns to his work, and Phil accepts his dismissal. He’s smiling ever so slightly as he walks back to his office - like he’d ever expect anything else from Fury. 

After half an hour of sorting through his most important emails and beginning the paperwork to handle the disagreement, Phil puts it all aside and leaves his office again. This time the office he intends to visit is empty, and Phil begins a brisk meander through the halls, eyes peeled until he spots his target. Slipping into the break room, Phil spots Audrey Wu, sitting with two of other handlers who Phil is fairly certain were at yesterday’s meeting. 

Even better - Phil crosses the room and takes a seat at their table, meeting each of their eyes with a smile and nod before focusing on Audrey. “Agent Wu,” he greets. “I won’t take up too much of your time, just wanted to have a quick word.”

“Of - of course, Agent Coulson. I - about yesterday. I’m -“

“I owe you an apology," Phil says smoothly before she can. “I put you in a situation that I know you didn’t choose to be in. I want you to know that there are no consequences, and I apologize for not exercising proper judgement.”

Audrey blinks at him. “But it wasn’t your fault,” she says.

“Being there was,” Phil says. “I shouldn’t have attended the meeting.” He smiles. “Consider it a good example for when we teach our agents about always listening to their personal instincts even when in a professional setting.”

Audrey tentatively smiles back. “I don’t think you’ll want it used as an anecdote though.”

“Names will be changed to protect the innocent," Phil says smoothly, and grins when they all laugh. “Anyway, that’s all from me. See you all at the meeting this afternoon?”

He receives three affirmatives, and departs. This time he’s able to return to his office for the rest of the morning, accepting visitors - two agents with black eyes and apologies, three for weekly check-in, and a couple of fellow handlers bringing paperwork from various afternoon meetings he missed yesterday - and sorting through the latest batch of field reports. 

He breaks for lunch in the cafeteria - some heads turn in his direction, but Phil ignores them all, pleased to find Natasha and a few of her sparring partners at one of the tables. He joins them, Natasha informing him that Clint has already eaten and is currently in a meeting with R&D, and enjoys listening to the play-by-play of their training session, offering a few suggestions when appropriate. Natasha nudges his shoulder lightly when they all stand to leave, and Phil returns the gesture. She - along with the rest of the team - have already checked in with him this morning, as is typical whenever one of the family goes through any type of ordeal, and Phil’s glad she’s here.

After all, he’s about to go back to the meeting where it all fell apart. He’s just a little apprehensive - because of course the entire building has heard about what happened, but only a handful of people _saw_ it, and he’s about to go back into a room with every single one of them.

But of course, this is the most important part. Phil straightens his back, puts his game face on, and walks right on in.

Conversations quiet a little, and people definitely look at him. But there’s no hostility, just slightly tentative greetings, and Phil returns them, immensely grateful when Audrey meets his eye and talks to him as natural as can be. It helps everybody relax, and soon enough they’re all chatting as always before a meeting, sharing stories of new recruits and old troublemakers.

When Sam arrives, he greets everybody by name and they all sit down, waiting for him to begin. “We’ll start where we left off yesterday,” Sam says, natural as anything. “Anybody remember where that was?”

“Don’t look at me,” Phil says calmly - and they _laugh_ , and everything is completely, totally okay. 

Now that he can focus, Sam’s content is, as usual, fascinating. Phil takes three pages of notes, asks numerous questions, and debates cheerfully with other agents about which techniques to introduce into general training and which to keep for specialists. By the time they reach the end of their meeting, yesterday is well and truly forgotten. 

As the meeting wraps up, Phil makes his way to Sam, who grins. “I presume you’ve got your usual list of questions for me today?” he asks.

Phil smiles and hands them over. “Steve says to come over for dinner tonight, so perhaps we can discuss it further then?”

“Sounds good. Where you headed? If it’s in the path of the neutral classrooms, I’ll walk with you."

“Other direction, I'm afraid. I have a meeting with Agent Barton, and I’m already late.”

Sam nods, then lowers his voice a little. “How are things today?” he asks.

Phil keeps smiling. “Good,” he says honestly. “Just as they should be.”

Sam seems satisfied, and they part ways, Phil heading to his office. There are still some eyes on him, but for the most part people are just getting back to business as usual. Most importantly though, nobody’s treated him like he’s going to break, and Phil’s very glad for that. His method of making it clear that he’s not fragile would have left him feeling very sorry for whoever had tried. 

Clint’s leaning against the wall by his office door, playing a game on his phone, which is quickly put away when Phil arrives. “Hey, sir,” he says, eyes firmly on Phil.

“Agent,” Phil says with a nod, barely hiding his smile when Clint’s shoulders relax. “Come in. I have your latest briefing documents, and a few follow up questions on your last report -”

He closes the door behind them, then finds himself pushed against it, Clint kissing him soft but possessive. It’s a breach of rules and goes against at least three of Phil’s personal codes of good behaviour in the workplace -

And Phil doesn’t even put up a fight. He figures he’s been good enough today to earn this reward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next fic: Safewords - negotiation of, complications around, use of, and feelings about.


End file.
